Snapshots
by Aromene
Summary: A collection of stories of varying lengths covering all four seasons and pretty much all charactes.
1. Colours of Art

Disclaimer: Oh look, this one isn't mine either. Fancy that.

AN: I promised myself I – oh, bugger. Forget it. I give up. Rose with 9 & 10.

* * *

Up until the time He walked into her life, her reading consisted of magazines and the occasional tabloid. Not exactly stellar literature, but books made her remember textbooks, and textbooks made her remember school, and school made her remember that she wasn't in it for that very reason.

She'd seen that amused look on his face the first time he'd found her in the library and not for the first time did she wonder just how much he knew about her that she'd never said out loud. Still, he'd left her alone; hadn't said a word, and after that he never seemed to go looking for her whenever she disappeared for hours on end.

The library on the TARDIS was big enough that she could have spent a lifetime reading and still only made a small dent. She's pretty sure _he_ could have spent all nine hundred years reading and still not got through them all. She picks books at random, mostly, or anything that looks interesting just by the cover she catches out of the corner of her eye when she's across the room. Every now and then she finds a book sitting on the table that she hasn't left out and she reads it next. Savours each word and wonders why this one's important. Somehow she always finds out.

Two days before Canary Warf changes her world forever, she finds a book on the table she's never seen before. It's old and worn and the pictures are of orange skies and impossible mountains. And she devours every word like it's the greatest gift he's ever given her, and perhaps it is. She never stops to wonder _why __now_, and later she's too busy crying herself to sleep each night to remember.

Ironically, it's the first clear thought she has in the Jeep on the way back from Bad Wolf Bay. Then she cries all that much harder because she knows it's not just him she's lost; it's everything.

She's never considered herself artistic. Hasn't touched paints since play school, but after a few months she finds an art store and buys the biggest canvas she can carry back to the house. And then she mixes blues and oranges and the most vibrant reds, colours washing together on the white, blending into something so beautiful she can't even find the words to describe it. Painting after painting, she fills her nights with colour and memories and in her sleep she dreams of a world she's never seen and a people who never even existed in the universe she walks during the day.

And after a while it's almost, just almost, enough.


	2. Slipping Time

Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue. No money. Etc.

AN: I got bored in class. Wow, first time I've said that in awhile. I will force myself to start writing Martha as soon as I find the time. This is kinda like my first SGA stories. I never wrote the ones I thought I was going to write.

* * *

Time is relative; especially when one journeys through it. She never counted the days because he never did either.

Somehow, it never seemed to be important, and it was just so very human. She was trying so hard not to cling to those stupid little things apes loved so much.

She counted in months, when she had to; when she stopped to think of it at all between the running for her life and the saving the universe thing.

After that first trip home, twelve months too late, she figured it didn't matter much anymore. Her age on Earth would always be different than what she actually was and after that, what was the point?

She never looked at her watch; had noticed he rarely did either. Hers was hardly ever right anyways. She'd just gotten so used to the feeling of it on her wrist that she felt next to naked without it on. And Mickey had given it to her for her 18th birthday. Memories of a life best forgotten, but one she couldn't entirely let go of. Silly ape. But then, he still clung to his in those moments when they stopped to breathe and he thought she wasn't looking. She figured it was fair.


	3. Regrets

Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue. No money. Etc.

AN: I got...depressed?

* * *

Perhaps the thing she regretted the most, if regret it could be called when it was beyond your control, was that she had no Sarah-Jane to talk to in this universe. She'd never thought she'd need to, but now that she did, she couldn't.

Her mother just went on like nothing had changed. And Mickey had already spent a year here, and had adjusted; made friends, had a job and a life and she hadn't been part of it. She hadn't wanted to be. But they were all she had now. Once there had been all of time and space and now there were only three people who were almost strangers.

And oh she missed him. She would have moved Heaven and Earth to return, but Heaven and Earth and even the universe weren't enough. She was helpless and there was no one now to rescue her. She was alone. Ironically, she finally knew what he felt like.


	4. Promises

Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue. No money. Etc.

AN: I got even more depressed? Also, I should stop watching Doomsday.

* * *

The first time it happens he watches in horror as her hands slip from the handle and she's sucked backwards into the rift. There is only silence in her wake.

He cries for the first time since he woke up in his ninth body and realized he was still alive.

And then he calmly walks downstairs, disappears into the TARDIS, and reappears two levels up and another three rooms over and an hour previously. And then he finds Pete Tyler, calmly explains that he has just defied his own laws and that at _exactly_ 4:06pm Pete has to return through the rift and grab her before she disappears into the Void.

Pete Tyler just looks at him for a moment, nods his head, and promises to do just that.

He's not supposed to cross his own timeline. But he does it anyway. He couldn't save them, but he can save her.


	5. Never Listens

Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue. No money. Etc.

AN: This was inspired by a fic I read some time ago. I have no memory of the title, author or even the plot. But it inspired this.

* * *

Her mother always warned her never to get in a stranger's car. But the TARDIS isn't exactly a _car_.

That's what she tells herself five minutes after the door closes behind her and they're spiraling through the Vortex and it's just all _so much_ and _so unbelievable_ and she never wants it to end.

She knows later that her mother's warning was probably true to any vehicle of motion originating on any planet in the universe. He's dangerous; not just to others, but to her. She's always been attracted to those types. It's gotten her into trouble before, but this is a different kind of trouble. This is trouble that thrills her, makes her heart race and her breath quicken, and she loves every thrilling minute of it.

He's dangerous, alright, but it only makes her love him more.

At least her mother never tells her "I told you so", even in Mickey does.


	6. Definitions

Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue. No money. Etc.

AN: The first line just kinda got stuck in my head...and it went from there.

* * *

He's always had a different opinion on the definition of the word fun than, well, just about every other living thing in the universe.

She learns this five minutes after they arrive on Platform 1 in the year 5.5/apple/26. It's all so new and alien and he's grinning like a five-year-old in a candy store, and maybe that's what this is to him. Each day a new adventure, a new planet, a new century; just like trying out the latest candy flavor.

In the weeks that follow her own definition of the word ends up screwed and indefinable. Some things that make him laugh seem like a wondrous adventure even if they're running for their lives. Other things that she thinks are fun he sneers at and makes a 'stupid ape' reference. But within a month she knows exactly what his definition of 'unfun' is. She has about a dozen examples of that.

Fun still seems to be a relative term even by the time Jack walks into their lives. Or barges in, if the Doctor is to be believed. And Jack's opinion of the definition is a concept she has never even considered. Basically, if it doesn't involve sex, alcohol, or near-death-experience then it is most certainly not worth the time or effort.

Still, at the end of it all, somehow, they've both cottoned onto the Doctor's definition as the best. At least there are two other people in the universe he can share that with.


	7. Purchase Price

Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue. No money. Etc.

AN: I finally wrote Martha!

* * *

One of these days he's going to get the coordinates right. Today is not that day.

Martha has never seemed to care where or when they go. Although, every once in a while she makes a pointed comment about how many near-death experiences they've chalked up and that maybe, just _maybe_ they should take a day off?

Usually that's when it all goes wrong. Their last three holidays have been disasters…at least as holidays. But then, sitting around is not something he has ever been able to do well. Still, he really wanted to give her that holiday this time. She's tired and a little universe weary, he can tell, and she deserves a break more than ever right now. Three months putting up with human him and he should probably make some grand gesture like buying her a planet or something as a thank you. It's the least she deserves. He also knows she's saved his life again.

Maybe the TARDIS is playing tricks with him again. Or maybe she's taken a sudden dislike to Martha (he has no idea why). Or maybe she's taken a dislike to _him_. But punishing Martha doesn't seem a good way to go about it.

His train of thought trails off once more as he yanks Martha to the right down another side alley, desperately hoping that this time they will lose their pursuers. Another left. Another. And he allows himself a second of relief when he can no longer hear running footsteps behind them. He drags her into a nearby doorway and allows her to catch her breath."You promised," she splutters.

He cringes. Maybe a solar system. Yes, definitely going to be buying her a solar system."Yeah." He glances around the door. Still no sign of pursuit. Martha is no longer gasping for breath, and so he takes her hand and leads her down the alleyway. Now he just has to remember where the TARDIS is.

"You know, you could always spend a day lounging around the TARDIS pool."

Martha gapes at him. "The TARDIS has a _pool_?"

Oh, did he forget to tell her that? Galaxy. A nice dwarf galaxy somewhere a very long way from Earth.


	8. Sail Away

Disclaimer: Does daydreaming count in any way towards ownership? No? Then I don't own Doctor Who.

AN: A little character introspective into Astrid Peth.

**SPOILERS: _Voyage of the Damned_

* * *

**

She remembers when she was a little girl that she always dreamed of travelling to far off places and meeting new peoples.

When she became an adult, the childhood dream of fantastical planets and sailing the stars quickly became a pipe dream. Children might be able to sail the stars in their imaginations, but actually doing it required things like money and a job and time. Things Astrid quickly realized didn't suddenly appear if you waited around for long enough.

She had started out like everyone else her age; convinced she would find a dream job and make it rich. Life, however, had very different ideas. She jumped from job to job, barely earning enough to pay for the essentials of life. And then, luck finally came her way.

Her best friend met some bloke or other, got married and then pregnant, all in the span of the same month. As a consequence, her job at the spaceport diner suddenly became available and Astrid, for the first time in her life, finally stepped off the planet she had called home.

She never really looked back. But after a few months, despite a job that allowed her to meet new people, the lack of travel started to bug her once more. There was a whole universe out there and being stuck on some dingy old spaceport in the same system as her home planet wasn't enough to satisfy the child who had dreamt of sailing the stars.

Three years passed. Three years of the same thing day after day, and even meeting new people was getting old. And she started to wonder if this was as good as it was going to get. There were even days she woke up and wondered if going home and finding herself a husband and just accepting her obvious lot in life might just be better. Or if not better, at least all that was left.

And then Lady Luck walked her way again. A new cruise liner – ten-stared luxury, replica of an old-Earth ship or something called Titanic, and the best vacation offered in five systems – sailed off the construction site. Three years experience on the spaceport was suddenly more than enough to get a job onboard. Even if it was just another waitressing position. But the chance to meet the rich and famous, and see a bit more of the universe, wasn't something she was about to pass up. And there was always the possibility it would lead to something else; something better.

And so she took it, packed up all her possessions in one case, and moved into a cramped room so small she could practically stretch her arms from wall to wall. But at least it was her own. Her uniform was another matter entirely. The diner had never really cared what she wore, but the Earth-traditional waitress costume was both outdated and very frilly. She hated frills.

She grit her teeth and wore it anyways, and tried to ignore the looks thrown her way. It was the part she hated most about waitressing. But she supposed she could live with it, because the job was cushy enough to make up for it. A few drink orders, a bit of small talk, a polite smile. That was really all it took.

And then she met the Doctor.


	9. Power

**Disclaimer:**** Not in any way shape or form mine.**

**AN: I'm not entirely sure where this came from. I do know it's supposed to be ****Nine

* * *

**

He told her once he could do anything. And that he'd do anything for her. That had rather backfired on both of them. On her for being a stupid ape and on him for messing with things he knew better than to mess with.

He bats the Laws of the Universe, and the Laws of Physics that she is a bit more familiar with, around like it's a game. And to him it's probably the only game that posses anything of a challenge. He's the last Time Lord in existence; the universe is his to protect or to rule, but he'd never even consider doing the later because it's the one thing he hated his people for the most.

But every now and then she catches a glimpse of that look he gets when he's really angry and she knows why he doesn't even dare to control. Because one wrong step, one wrong decision and he really would become a vengeful god bent on controlling and manipulating the universe to his own ends. And the universe would lose.

It scares her just a little. Even though she knows he'll never make that wrong step. He'll always be her Doctor, her protector, her Healer of the Universe. It's all he has left now.


	10. Impossible

**Disclaimer:**** Yeah, no.**

**AN: Wow, more angst! I should try writing something happy, but it'll probably only end badly anyways. Oh well.

* * *

**

Rose:

He throws the world "impossible" around like its child's play, and perhaps it is. He probably rewrote a few of the universe's laws before the age of ten or whatever was equivalent for ten for him.

She's also relatively certain that the word does not mean what he thinks it means. Or his definition is not the generally accepted Earth definition.

What she does know is that he is the only person in the universe who would never let any definition of the word stop him. He's promised he'd always return for her. She believes him.

Until the day even he can't argue with the universal definition of the word.

* * *

The Doctor:

In a universe of infinite possibilities, this was not the worst.

But it was close. Any possibility where he was in one world and Rose in another was close to the worst it could possibly be. But they were, at least, both alive in their separate universes.

Which was about the only positive thing he could find about the whole situation.

For only the second time in his very long life he wished the word "impossible" didn't mean what it did. Ironically, had the first time not happened then the second would not actually be as impossible as it was.


	11. Measures

Disclaimer: So not mine. Would anyone actually mistake it for such?

AN: Rose, in the years after. I…meant to write something else.

* * *

Age is a measure of nothing except years. 

Jack said that to her once, somewhere along the way. She thought it fitting. It certainly seemed to describe the Doctor.

She never realized that one day it would describe her too. But here she is, sixty-seven and looking fifty (and grateful for it) and she knows the number is nothing more than arbitrary. It's not the number she should be in this world (when she crossed into this universe they were already three years ahead of her old one, but she didn't feel twenty-three much less look it), but it is, as near as she can count, the age she _actually is_, lived in days.

In days, in minutes, in seconds of wonder. In that respect, at least, nothing much has changed. Her life is still wondrous, just a little bit less so without him around.

Jackie died last year, and Pete (who she had never taken to calling Dad and was not exactly sure why) the year before. And Mickey's been gone for years now, so many that the pain of his loss in a memory that only haunts her in her darkest nightmares.

But she still has a sister and two beautiful nephews and friends aplenty and a job that she would only give up for one thing in the universe. Or one person. And somewhere along the way she realized it was enough. It would never be entirely what she wanted, but she could find her own version of happiness here and had.

She's lived sixty-seven years and there's not a thing (within her control) that she regrets. She's lived sixty-seven years, looks fifty and still feels the wonder of a nineteen-year-old shop girl from London who suddenly saw the universe.


	12. Stolen Thoughts

Disclaimer: Doesn't belong to me.

AN: Oh, you thought it was someone else? Oops…

* * *

He thinks about her once, just once on the first day and then he puts her out of his mind for the next year. But that one day is more than enough for him to be grateful that despite the hell that's awaiting them all she, at least, is safe.

It is small comfort, but all the comfort he has.

The first day afterwards, when they find themselves back on Earth and Jack returns to his team and Martha tells him, in no uncertain terms, that she's got her own responsibilities too, and that the universe isn't one of them (that's _his_ job), he thinks about her.

A passing thought along the lines of "I wonder what she's doing _right now_" and then it's gone. He hasn't allowed himself to dwell in a very long time.

He's a master of impossible, if not of time, but the universe has never made even an attempt to show him gratitude for all the times he's saved her. Which is typical. His people swore never to interfere; he swore never to stick around long enough to accept the reward. He doesn't feel that he deserves it.

But this once, just this one time, he feels that the universe owes him something. She's just not willing to give it.


	13. History Lessons

Disclaimer: I claim no ownership whatsoever.

AN: AU. So AU it's not even an alternate universe. It's a NGTHU (Never Going To Happen Universe).

* * *

He should have known better than to pick up a classical historian, but taking her to Rome c.80BC had just been plain idiotic.

He's taken to trailing her along the via Sacra and trying to look inconspicuous. Of course _she_ is strolling along decked in all the latest fashion of the period and enough jewellery that no one is likely to bother them, much less look at her with anything other than respect. She keeps throwing annoyed looks his way, but he's not going to give in because if there's one thing in the world he doesn't do it's prance around in a big sheet. He has standards.

Even if they are rather low.

He's a little bit impressed that she managed to find her way from the TARDIS to the Foro Romano without veering off course even once. Her sense of direction is almost as good as his, but he has a sinking feeling she could walk these streets blindfold and still find her way.

What really annoys him is that fact that since they set foot outside the TARDIS three (Rassilon, has it really been three?) hours ago she hasn't stopped _talking_.

Rose would have been collapsed in a corner laughing gleefully at his expense by now. Martha probably would be too. Maybe Donna as well. And Jack…

Well, Jack would have disappeared somewhere within hour two and wouldn't be back until nightfall. But he would have laughed himself into a coma when he heard about it later.

He's got to start picking his companions better. Nyssa never laughed at him, did she? Well, not much. Or Turlough, but he didn't laugh much at all.

"Considering how crowded it already it, it's a wonder it takes another eighty years before anyone thinks about building another forum nearby to spread out the crowds. Bit slow on the invention scale the Romans were. Could copy other cultures like no one's business, but come up with something original themselves? Besides concrete? Nay, too much work."

What's she on about now?

"Are you even listening? And don't pretend that you know all of this. No one knows of all of this, unless they were born in two hundred years _right here_ or have spent their life two thousand years from now studying it. I don't care how many alien cultures you can name of the top of your head, and please don't, but you can't be an expert on ancient Rome."

He nods. Better to agree rather than launch a debate that could last till sunset. Which is still a disgustingly long way off. He hasn't made a mistake this bad in a very, very long time.

"You know, I wish I could hear Latin when I speak and not English. I mean, I can actually understand it right now, but it's sounding like my native tongue and where's the fun in that? Can't you turn the circuit off or something? Just for a bit?"

He resists, barely, the urge to launch into an hour long lecture on why it's not a circuit and therefore can't be shut off. He doesn't want to debate with her. Instead he gives her a look that he thinks clearly conveys "Can we go back to the TARDIS" and "My feet hurt" and "Are you ever going to shut up" all in one go.

She doesn't seem to get any of its meanings and she's already off towards the next sight. He groans loud enough to garner a few strange looks before tailing after her.

No more historians. Archaeologists. Linguists. Intelligent apes. _Ever_.

Maybe it's time to go back to travelling on his own. It's worked before.


	14. Waiting

**Disclaimer: Yeppers, still not mine.**

**AN: I'm really not sure where this came from. **

The first time he sees them it is on Platform One and the Earth is about to die. Rose looks young and shy and he remembers vaguely that this is her first trip out. The Doctor is the same as ever, and the little tiny part of him that can still feel those kinds of feelings, sighs at the loss.

It isn't time. Not yet.

* * *

The next time he's been stuck in a hospital on New Earth for more years than he'd like to count (which is saying something, considering how long he's been around) waiting for the Doctor to arrive. He knew, message aside, that there was no way in the universe the Doctor would land at the right time. He'd expected that. But ten years? Honestly.

He wonders if this will be it, and his first glimpse of the Doctor as he opens his eyes from sleep and his breath catches (figuratively) for just a second. The right Doctor yes, but the right time?

Later, when Rose arrives, he allows himself a moment of longing for days long since gone. It is not time yet, but soon. All too soon. He knows what his end will mean for the Doctor and Rose.

* * *

He's so old and so tired and he just wants to…let go. Going out saving New Earth sounds about the right way to do it. The Doctor has mentioned Martha and so he knows it's time. Time to end it. Time to, at long last, welcome that one gift of humanity he has been denied.

He can see the second of hope in the Doctor's eyes behind the mask even this new Doctor likes to wear. And he's so immensely sorry that it had to end like this. That it will end like this. Not such great last words, after all. He's had so many last words.

Death is soft and gentle and oh so welcome. Peace, and five billion years ago the world is ending. He's almost sorry to be missing it this time.


	15. Graveyard Shift

**Disclaimer: I'm a Roman archaeologist. Does that count for anything?**

**AN: One of what will probably be many drabbles from this episode. Spoilers for "Fires of Pompeii", or Volcano Day as I shall forever call it.**

* * *

He probably shouldn't have brought her here, but she asked to come. Asked to see what was left. But walking through a graveyard is one thing; it's that much harder when you were there the day everyone was buried.

He's left her standing a few dozen feet away, staring at one of the glassed-in sheds that house half a dozen figures. She's crying, but he isn't sure what comfort he can give her. He knows what she's thinking. _Did I talk to one of these people? That man there, did I tell him to run?_ He's made some pretty damn stupid mistakes in recent years, but dragging her into this guilt-fest probably takes the cake.

It's still all too recent, never mind that here and now it happened two thousand years ago. The memory in his head is still clear. The screams; the fear. Just yesterday in their timeline. Just yesterday Pompeii was thriving with the promise of a glorious future. Now it's just ashes and dust and guilt.


	16. Ancient Art

**Disclaimer: Completely, entirely, not mine. And the journal is completely fictitious. I think.**

**AN: This is crack, people. Pure, fantastic, crack. I was high on something. Spoilers for "Fires of Pompeii", but just a little one.

* * *

****Journal of Marble Works  
Vol. 5 (19) 2008**

_Recent excavations during the 2008 season at Pompeii have unearthed a startling discovery. In Region IX, previously unexcavated, a house belonging to what archaeologists believe was a marble seller has been found._

_The house, a typical atrium-style with the back peristyle so commonly found in Pompeii, was lavishly decorated with marble flooring and even walls. As well, a number of extraordinarily preserved frescoes were found, similar to other houses of the first century CE period._

_The most striking find of them all, however, was a Luna marble plaque. The plaque was found partly broken at the base of a small house shrine and is believed to have been attached to the wall above by two holes that were uncovered amidst the fresco. The depiction on the plaque is by far the most baffling find archaeologists have ever made._

_The background is unadorned, but the foreground contains two figures and an unidentified object. Of the two figures, one is clearly male, the other female. The man is depicted wearing a tight-fitting suit, similar to modern styles, and stands casually with his hands in his pockets. But the woman, strangely, is seen wearing a dress typical in style for the end of the Pompeian period. _

_The most unusual part of the carving, amazingly, is the central object depicted between the man on the left and the woman on the right. It appears to be a large upright box sitting on a high podium reached by a flight of stairs. It appears very temple-like, but clearly is not a typical temple. The front seems to have a double closed doorway, and a handle can just be seen on the right door. The roof is peaked, but below it is a narrow frieze with an inscription in Latin. However, the state of the marble and a unfortunately placed crack through it renders the letters mostly unintelligible. The letters A D can just be made out towards the beginning, but epigraphers have been unable to guess at the actual wording. _

_The carving is mid-relief, typical of the period, but the detail in the facial features is extraordinary. Individual locks of hair can be seen on the man who sports a style not uncommon on the streets of today. There are even creases in the corner of the woman's eyes that can still be made out. Her dress, especially, is well-preserved and it is quite simple. She also wears no adornment but for earrings, which would seem to suggest she is not a woman of wealth. Clearly, however, she was a woman of importance._

_Just what led a marble seller to keep an image of these two figures in his house is the current debate among scholars. Since their placement is certainly in the area normally reserved for the household Lares, the family must have worshiped them in place of the usual family ancestors and household spirits. The temple-like box is the most unusual of the entire piece, though no doubt the full inscription would help shed some light onto its importance, and perhaps the identities of the two figures._

_There will be a great deal of research still to come and perhaps other intriguing remains from the house will be uncovered. Archaeologists have not yet learned the name of the marble seller, since the only inscription with his name is almost entirely destroyed by a collapsed ceiling._

_Further work will be published next spring once the current excavations are completed._

_Amy McDonald, Ph.D.  
University of Exeter, UK_


	17. Telling Lies

**Disclaimer: And would you look at that: still not mine!**

**AN: I said there would be more, yeah? I went down to the Forum today, because I could and sat in the sun beside the Temple of Caesar and drabbled. Three in one day! SPOILERS FOR FIRES OF POMPEII.**

**Boringness: The population around the areas of Pompeii and Herculaneum at the time of the eruption in 79CE was about 20,000. We know that most of the population of Pompeii managed to escape at the very beginning because they were ten miles away and had the time to run. Herculaneum was not so lucky. But since only a small part of the town has been excavated (and the actual size is unknown – someone's working on that, don't worry, there's just a large modern village in the way) we don't know the population and can't estimate how many died. The likely death toll, using max. figures is about 10,000, but it could have been less.**

* * *

He had told her twenty thousand people, but that had been an abject lie. And he's not sure why he did it either, because in the end it just added to her guilt.

Five thousand, ten; maybe. So many escaped and if he's honest with himself, even if it was his doing, it's still better than last Christmas.

He's never honest with himself, though. But he knows he should have been honest with her, because she pressed that lever with him believing it was twenty thousand. He owes her that, at least.

Sometimes she reminds him so much of Rose that for the briefest second he blinks and sees blond hair and nineteen years and his breath catches in his throat.

He swears to himself he'll never lie to her again; not like he did to Rose.


	18. Ruin

**Disclaimer: And would you look at that: still not mine!**

**AN: And, again.**

* * *

She's standing there with her eyes closed and he can tell she's trying to picture it as it once was. With the splendour and the people.

He's not entirely sure why he keeps doing this, because it's not doing either of them any good. To keep showing her the rise and fall of civilizations; at their best and their worst. It's like that first trip to watch the Earth burn. He's never been sure why he did that to her either; just because he could, doesn't seem to be a good enough reason.

"One day, this'll all be gone, yeah? I mean, before the Earth burns up in 5.5/apple...whatever. This won't last till then, will it?"

He turns old eyes on her. "No, it won't last. Not even another thousand years. You'll lose interest in the ruins of ancient cultures dead and gone. The future's all that's important." He watches her face fall and wishes he hadn't said that. So many regrets...

"Yeah, figured. I mean, I never cared about this stuff at school." She sighs. "It was beautiful, though. Still is, in a way. At least it's here; there's a record, yeah? People remember."

He looks away towards the Capitoline and pictures it as it was for them yesterday. "Yes," is all he can manage to say.

She grasps his hand in hers.

"I remember." Yes, he think, she does.


	19. Lost in Translation

**Disclaimer: And would you look at that: still not mine!**

**AN: And, once more. Bored yet?**

* * *

"So, what happens when I speak Greek in Greece? Ancient Greece? Do they, like, hear Chinese or something?"

The Doctor looks at her. "It's always the hard questions with you, isn't it? What say we find out?"

Donna's eyes narrow in suspicion. Honestly, must she see an ulterior motive in _everything_ he says? "No volcanoes? Earthquakes? Hurricanes?"

"The Mediterranean doesn't get Hurricanes," he helpfully provides.

"Tsunamis? Freak alien invasions?"

"What? That's not natural!"

"With you it is."

The Doctor looks resentful. "If you don't want to go..."

"Did I say that? Stop putting words in my mouth, Martian-boy!"

He sighs. Not again. "I thought we'd determined I wasn't from Mars?"

"So you say. Where's the proof, I ask?"

He doesn't dignify that with an answer, partly because they've been over this before, and mostly because he has no proof. He can't exactly take her to his home planet and show her what he really is.

"Ancient Athens," he says instead. "Coming right up! Best change," he looks her over.

"What? I can wear jeans in Pompeii, but Athens isn't forward thinking enough?"

"Yeah, well, Greeks you know. Always gotta be different." That suspicious look is back. "And you?" she questions.

"In a tunic? With these knees?"

"Fine," she disappears out into the hallway.

When he flings the door open it's China and looking suspiciously like fifteen-something common era.

"Oops," he grins.

Donna just glares and walks back into the TARDIS to change.


	20. Dinner and a Compliment

**Disclaimer: Still not mine.**

**AN: Courtyard. Sunshine. Roses.**

* * *

She'd bought the pink dress on Moxolossia. At the time she had just been so enamoured with the shimmering colour and the way it flowed when she tried it on that she had never given thought to where she'd wear it. He'd shaken his head, annoyed that she couldn't seem to decided, handed her a credit chip and told her he would find a reason for her to wear it.

They'd met Jack a week later and in the ensuing weeks she' d forgotten about it completely.

After Christmas and New Years and the Sycorax and everything, she found it in the back corner of her rather substantial wardrobe when she was putting her clothes away. She tried it on, pleased it still fit. Halfway through a twirl his voice nearly sent her sprawling.

"I promised I'd take you somewhere." She stared at him, embarrassed and not sure why. "Somewhere you could wear that."

New brown eyes appraised her and she blushed. "I know just the place! Be ready in ten?" And without waiting for an answer he disappeared out the door.

Rose stood blinking in the centre of her room. Well, if he was offering...She went to find some shoes.

"Barcelona!" He said as he flung the door open twenty minutes later. "The planet, not the city! Perfect place to find a horribly overpriced restaurant."

"Horribly overpriced?" She wondered aloud.

"Well, galactic tourist attraction, yeah? Everything is overpriced. Still, be a shame to waste that dress on pizza! Come on," he dragged her off down what appeared to be the main street.

Sometime later and about six restaurants, some of which had seemed perfectly fine to Rose, but not apparently to whatever this new Doctor's tastes were, she called a halt. "I appreciate the effort, Doctor, but these shoes weren't made for hiking around a city, much less a planet, ya?"

Startled, he glanced down at the strappy sandals she had chosen. "Oh. Right. How does that work?" He pointed a finger to a small restaurant a few dozen feet away.

"Looks great!" she assured him.

"Then," he offered her his arm, "will you accompany me to dinner, Miss Tyler?"

"Why yes, I'd be delighted, Doctor."

He grinned ecstatically at her (that much had not changed) and led her over.

Whether the other half a dozen places were indeed bad as he had thought or not, this quaint little Italian-style eatery turned out to be a very good choice and not horribly expensive.

She was halfway through dessert, some sort of cold custard thing, when his completely unexpected comment had her chocking on her food.

"You look beautiful, you know. Don't think I told you that when you bought that dress."

Once she stopped coughing she looked at him closely. "What? I can't give compliments? I've called you beautiful before." He sounded defensive.

"Once," she reminded him. "And then you added 'for a human'."

"Well, you are human."

"Yeah, got that. Thanks," she added because she realized it was what she should have said in the first place.

"Welcome," he smiled. "Done? Good, got a city to explore! Dogs with no noses; haven't seen any of those yet! Can't be missed. Come on," he grabbed her hand and dragged her off again as fast as her shoes would allow, talking a mile a minute.

New Doctor, maybe, but not that different, she thought.


	21. Endings

**Disclaimer: And not mine still.**

**AN: I've been inspired to write more Doctor and Donna stuff.**

* * *

They've left the Ood Sphere behind them and he's taken them into the Vortex. Just drifting for now. He thinks they both need a bit to calm down.

Donna is sitting in the jump seat, feet up on the console and seems to be starring off into nothingness. He thinks she's probably thinking, which is never a good thing.

She'd been so surprised. Second Great and Bountiful Empire, etc. They were always so surprised to find their tiny little planet kept surviving. After everything; after the thousands of ways the Earth could have died before it did. And it survived them all.

"Why don't you get some sleep before our next grand adventure, yeah?" He suggests when she yawns. She stares at him, and he doesn't really think she's seeing him; just reliving the day instead. She nods slightly and totters from the room.

He takes her seat. He showed Rose the end of the world. Martha saw the end of the universe, and still the human race kept going. He wishes there was something else left to show Donna, but he can't cross his own time stream and he knows it. Not for kicks, at least.

He can't show her that when the Earth dies, it's of old age.


	22. Small Mistakes

**Disclaimer: :laughs hysterically:**

**AN: Okay, so my lead-up to dealing with What May Happen is to write copious reunion fics. And subject them on others. Whatever therapy works best, I always say.**

* * *

This time, he misses by twelve years.

Understandable, perhaps, when one factors in the factors. Crossing universes isn't exactly child's play (well, not any_more_) and he's been trying for a good few years himself, thank you very much. And then there's the fact that he really had forgotten that time passes quicker in other universes, and slower in still others, but that this was one of those quicker-by-three-times ones. At least he'd made it. He thought that was worth a bit of congratulations.

Rose seemed to think otherwise. Alright, so twelve years was a pretty big 'oops', but he'd _come_. Against the _impossible_.

Which never seemed to be good enough for one, Rose Tyler, now head of Torchwood, Diplomat-to-Earth (on the good days), Defender of Earth (on the less than good days) and Alien Hunter (on the really, really bad days). He rather had to admit to himself that maybe he shouldn't have come in the first place.

But the whole "I found a way through!" giddiness had rather knocked all sense of reason out of his head until it was too late to do anything about it.

Unfortunate, that, what with the rant that same Rose Tyler has been off on for the last five minutes. When did she learn to talk so much? And is he that annoying when he does the same thing?

A thought to be pondered at a much later date.

"…and it's not as if I'm not happy to see you, Doctor, because I really am. I mean, I _knew_ you'd come; I just thought that massive brain of yours would figure it out a little sooner. But now that you _are _here, you can't just expect me to pack up and leave. Or leave without packing, either. I've got _responsibilities_…"

Hadn't Jack said the same thing? Clearly he wasn't a bad enough influence on his travelling companions.

"…and there's an envoy from Ipatia on its way _right now_ and they expect me to be here to deal with it—"

"Ipatia? How'd you manage _that_ one? I mean, they're okay, sure, as people go, and in this case I use that term loosely, but why'd you want to talk to them for?"

Her tirade stopped, she glares at him instead. "Because they _asked_. And as Diplomat of Earth it was hardly a good idea to _refuse_ when the nice aliens come along."

"Well, I suppose. You want them to go away, though, cause I can probably talk them out of whatever they're asking for."

She glares harder. "They aren't _asking_ for anything, except peace! And I don't want to talk them out of _that_! Honestly, you waltz in here thinking you know best about everything, but you don't, do you Doctor, because _I'm_ the one that's been dealing with things since I got stuck here, not _you_!"

"Yes, but –"

"But nothing!"

"Yes, but…" she glares but doesn't say anything. "But don't you want to come with me?" He tries desperately to get rid of the pleading tone in his voice and manages…mostly.

"Yes, but that's not the _point_!"

"Then what _is_ the point?!"

"You can't just _expect_ I will! You can't just storm in here and drag me back to the TARDIS and not think that I may have a _say_ in it."

"Well, you do. You said you'd come. That's a say, yeah?"

"_After I deal with the Ipatians_," she grounds out so menacingly that he takes a step back. When did his dear, sweet Rose become so scary?

"Well, _fine_. I'll just…go wait in the TARDIS. You won't be long, will you?

"Urgh!" She storms off quite spectacularly.

"Does that mean yes or no?" he asks the air.


	23. Comes to This

**Disclaimer: And even today, I still own nothing. I don't even own the chair I'm sitting on.**

**AN: In my determination to write **_**something **_**today (even if it was supposed to be dissertation related), this is probably less than quality ramblings. By all means ignore it and watch Turn Left instead; Russell T. Davies does this better than any of us anyways.**

* * *

The first time she waited for five and a half hours. The second time she waited for five and a half years.

She doesn't want to contemplate that if there ever is a next time, it would mean waiting longer then she's probably going to be alive. But there won't be a next time. There can't.

She has known this since Torchwood first detected the breach. Since that first inkling that maybe, just _maybe_ there might be a way across. She knew then as she knows now that it wasn't meant to work that way. The universe is not stupid and never kind. Any universe.

What shocks her most is that despite the fact she's been waiting so long for this chance, somehow it's easier than she imagined it could be to say no this time. She knows there is no second chance. But there's only one Doctor, and there's only one Rose Tyler, and they both have their own universe to protect. And it can't be any other way.

So she says no; weighs in on the side of responsibilities and family and leaves him behind.

Even if it nearly breaks her once more to do it.


	24. Lifetimes

**Disclaimer: Would you look at that? Still not mine!**

**AN: Hey, I **_**wrote**_** something! I was beginning to think that was never going to happen again. Of course it's post Journey's End.**

**Summary: The ironic thing now is that they have time.**

* * *

They are tentative about each other at first. It's like starting all over again, at least for her, and she's been away long enough to make it sort of new for him too.

She treats him like she did right after he regenerated. Her new new new Doctor; different, but still the same. He understands it this time in a way he couldn't before. He's more emotional now, more in tune with how she feels and he knows that's because of that little part of Donna in him. And he's grateful for it. Because without it nothing would have changed.

Jackie and Pete seem to expect them to up and announce a wedding date without preamble. But Rose doesn't want that, he can tell, and he's not entirely sure she ever will. The husband, 2.5 kids and white picket fence was the life she would have had before she met him. He doesn't think she can ever bring herself to accept that again.

And even though they live in a world with boundaries now, and a one-way path through life, not settling down seems to be the only thing they can do to keep that little bit of the life they both once had.

Rose absolutely refuses to let him join one of Torchwood's contact teams, fearing she'll lose him before she really gets a chance to know him. He tells her he feels the same way, and the next day she quits her job, puts her flat up for sale, and tells him they're going travelling.

He's never really thought about just how big the Earth actually is. He could spend the rest of this lifetime he's been giving trying to see it all. And there's plenty to see. And plenty of people to help. It's always what's driven him, and he finds that being mortal hasn't changed that.

They go slow; meandering as it were through country after country – stopping for a week here, a month there. Neither of them is in a rush. They both have a lifetime now, and suddenly that seems so much more than they had before.


End file.
